Alone with You
by OfficialGale
Summary: Mike wakes up in a scary situation. Where is he? Whats going on? (Set pre-TD series)
1. Chapter 1

Pain registered from the bridge of Mike's nose.

**Where am I?**

He felt the ground beneath him. Dusty cement. He looked down. His normal clothes were gone, replaced by an orange jumpsuit. Blood gushed out of his nose and onto the loud colors he bore.

"_What? Are you done already, Mal?_" a voice teased.

Mike gazed up, finding the owner of said voice standing in a similar orange jumpsuit in front of him. The teenager, from what it seemed, scowled when 'Mal' offered no response.

**Is he talking to me? Who is Mal?**

The teenager stepped forward, leaning down and taking hold of Mike by the front of his shirt.

"_Listen here you shit-stain. You better answer my question,"_ He growled at Mike.

Mike struggled, trying to get loose.

"_Let go of me,"_ he pleaded to the teen.

The teen hoisted Mike up before slamming him back down onto the harsh floor. Mike felt the air whoosh out of his lungs as a barrage of pain came throbbing from his back.

"_Have. You. Had. Enough?!"_ the teenager screamed.

At this point a crowd of orange had begun to form around all the excitement going on. Mike tried to breathe in, but the air couldn't find passage to his lungs. A second passed and the angry teen hopped onto Mike, straddling his arms and torso, and began to strangle him.

Mike began to panic as his oxygen was cut off. He flailed and kicked but couldn't get his attacker off him. His vison began to waver and his hearing faded.

Suddenly the weight shifted off him and he gasped in precious air. Someone had hauled the teen off his nearly lifeless body, rescuing him. Arms grabbed him, lifting him up to his feet and putting his hands behind his back. A guard? Mike struggled to stand, still trying to pull in air to his lungs. A harsh push and a command to move from the guard caused Mike to start walking.

Mike began to look at his surroundings, noticing the lunch tables and mobs of people watching him. This was a cafeteria. He continued his march forward, too tired to fight back. He passed out of the room and into a corridor with jail cells. Row after row, he walked and walked, until he finally made it into a room with medical equipment. A man stood at the far end of the room, reading some papers and writing onto a clipboard.

"_Got young Mal here, doc. Got into a fight again,"_ the guard announced.

The doctor turned around, sighing heavily.

"_Who was it this time, Mal?"_ he asked, looking to Mike.

Mike quickly replied with a set of questions. _"Why do people keep calling me Mal? Where am I?"_

"_What's your name then?"_ the doctor asked intrigued.

He already knew about Mike's Dissociative Identity Disorder and had met all his personalities, but this one was new to him.

"_My name is Mike and you still haven't told me where I am,"_ he huffed. _"I wake up to getting assaulted and then I get walked roughly to what I guess to be an infirmary. And no one has answered my question!" _Mike began fuming.

"_You're in Juvie, Mike. This is the first time I've seen you during your stay here but your alters have been around, mostly Mal. What's the last thing you remember?"_ the doctor asked.

Mike couldn't believe it.

**Juvie? I'm in Juvie? How'd that happen? **

"_I-I just remember going to bed after a harsh summer thunderstorm washed away my plans for the day,"_ Mike answered.

"_Summer!?"_ he asked surprised.

Mike nodded. Blood dripped onto the pavement of the room.

"_Mike, it's halfway through October now,"_ he said gently.

He motioned for the guard to leave them alone so he could get to work. He walked Mike to a seat to get a better look at his bloodied nose.

Mike let himself be led by the man. His breathing quickened. He felt his palms become sweaty.

**It's never been this long in between before. I've been out for almost two months. What has my body been doing since then? Wait. How come I haven't heard anyone since I've been awake? What's happening to me?**

Mike jumped out of his thoughts as the doctor put a hand on his shoulder.

"_Mike, I know you're processing a lot right now, but I need to take a look at that bloody nose of yours,"_ he said.

Mike straightened up so the man could view his face better. The doctor began working, cleaning Mike's nose and checking the structural integrity of the bone. A couple of minutes passed before the doctor spoke up again.

"_There. I don't think anything is broken. You're lucky, it could have been worse,"_ he said.

"_Thanks, I never asked your name by the way,"_ Mike responded.

The doctor smiled.

"_It's James Herrington. But you can call me James."_

Mike extended his arm, shaking James's hand and thanking him again. A guard came back to escort Mike to his cell. He walked silently, wondering what was going to happen to his future within Juvie.


	2. Chapter 2

Mike woke up to the guard's whistle. It sent a shrill shriek down the hallway waking more than just himself. Mike groaned as he rolled off his bed. It could hardly be called that if he were being honest. Felt like a wooden block. Another shriek call of the whistle grabbed Mike's attention. He walked to the front of his cell waiting to be let out. A good few minutes passed before a guard came to release him to go grab breakfast from the cafeteria. It had been a few days since he had awoken from the depths of his consciousness and he had learnt the routine of Juvie and what was to be expected of him.

The day had been structured around three meals. First was breakfast. Next was education. Just because they were all in holding didn't mean they could forgo learning. After a lunch break, they would continue for another hour before being let outside for some exercise. Then they would eat dinner and be left to their own devices in their cells before lights out. It was during this time that Mike spent his efforts reaching his alters. He had very little luck in reaching anyone. The loneliness had begun to eat at him. He missed Svetlana and her cheerful attitude. He missed Chester's stories. He missed Vito's goofy personality. He missed Manitoba's charming anecdotes. But most of all Mike missed talking to anyone but himself.

Sure, there were other people in here with him that he could talk to, but most of them either gave him a glare or shied away from him. He supposed this had something to do with what he guessed was a new personality. And this personality did not see to be afraid to get into fights. He really wished he knew more about Mal, but like all his other recent attempts at talking to alters, trying to talk to Mal bore no fruit. Mike had contacted a psychologist and had an appointment later on today, but for now he had to wait and try not to fall victim to any more fights. He was certain his past behavior had done nothing to shorten his sentence. Maybe it had even lengthened it. He had no idea.

Mike stepped into the food line, hungry and parched. The food here had been decent, but it wasn't anything to write home about. Speaking of home. Those two probably couldn't give a rat's ass about him. He wondered if they had even sent any letters to him or if they were just glad to get rid of him for the time being. One less mouth to feed.

Sitting down at a table, Mike began to eat his food in silence. He was quite enjoying his food before hearing footsteps walk up behind him. He turned around to see a girl smirking down at him.

"_Uh,,, can I,, help you?"_ Mike questioned. He hoped she wasn't here to fight him. That was the last thing he wanted.

She crossed her arms, standing haughtily. _"You know, for someone who everyone claims is one of the top dogs here, you don't seem very,,, dangerous. In fact, I heard you lost a fight just the other day."_

Mike sighed. _"I don't think I'm a top dog being how I am currently. Please just ignore the others opinions of me. They aren't up to date on how I am right now."_

"_Oh, are you referring to your 'personalities'? You saying you aren't responsible for your past actions?" _she laughed. _"God, what a loser. First you claim to be some kind of freak and now you won't own up to your given title of top dog. I don't see why others are so afraid of a string bean like you. I bet you cry yourself to sleep thinking of how scared you are to even be here."_

"_Who told you about my personalities? How to they know?_" Mike began to shake. People weren't supposed to know that about him. That was personal. Tears welled up in his eyes. _"Maybe I am scared to be here, but who wouldn't be. This isn't exactly a great place to be,"_ he explained.

"_You're even more pathetic than I thought,"_ she snickered. She turned around and walked away. Everyone had been watching.

**Great. Now I have a larger target on my back.**

Mike continued eating his meal in silence.


	3. Chapter 3

Mike walked towards the room where he would meet with the psychologist. The day had been going smoothly except for a small interaction with that one girl. She made Mike's skin crawl. She knew too much about him for his own comfort. Everyone had been listening in on the conversation, but so far no one had taken the opportunity to jump him or anything. Mike was worried about that happening. He wasn't especially good in a fight after all. And his previous 'fight' ended up with him having a bloodied nose and a sore back.

Sitting down in the chair, which was considerably more comfortable than any of the other chairs that Mike had experienced here, he fidgeted his thumbs and waited for the psychologist to appear. Not more than a minute later a woman walked into the room.

"_Mr. Bianchi. Nice to meet you. I'm Ms. McClendon,"_ she greeted as she navigated to her desk.

Nothing seemed to really stand out about her. Her makeup and clothing all looked normal to Mike. He hoped her attitude would be the same as well.

"_Hi,"_ he greeted back.

The psychologist took a moment to shuffle some papers before looking up at Mike.

"_So, you requested an appointment with me. What can I help you with?"_ Ms. McClendon asked.

Mike shifted in his seat, explaining his situation to her. How he had woken up suddenly only to find he was in Juvie.

Ms. McClendon paused for a second before looking to her notes. _"It seems that you are looking for some answers. Luckily, I have your file right here._" She took a second to scan through the file. _"The reason you were brought here is because you assaulted your father. You were sentenced to 4 months in a youth detention center. Two of which you have already completed. Along with 50 hours of community service once back home."_

"_I assaulted my dad? Why would I do that? That doesn't make any sense. Why don't I remember any of this?"_ Mike questioned.

Ms. McClendon lowered the papers. "I don't know what happened. But if I had to guess, either something caused another split or Mal has been with you longer than you've been aware."

"_I don't remember anything that would've led to another split happening. So either it already happened and Mal came from trauma I remember, or I don't remember the trauma that caused Mal to come up," _Mike said.

"_Yes, and I'd be more than happy to help you sort out your memories and try to find your alters," _Ms. McClendon offered. "_But for now it seems to be a waiting game."_

Mike nodded in understanding. He knew there was only so much that she could do. A lot of it would be dependent on him getting in touch with his alters.

**But how long do I have? I'm not exactly in the best place to be figuring out this kinda stuff.**

Ms. McClendon began writing a note. _"I'm going to give authorization for you to have a pencil and a journal. Maybe some writing and journaling will start the process of contacting your alters."_ She placed the note into a file. _"You should get the notebook by tomorrow."_

Mike thanked her. A guard came back to escort Mike to his cell. It was almost time for lights out.

Once back, he sat on the edge of his bed. A feeling of frustration made him close his fists tightly.

**It's already been two days here. And I'm not much closer to finding answers. I know I haven't been very hands-on in interacting with my alters, but they would've talked to me by now. Maybe I need to try harder. Maybe I should try going to my headspace to searching for my alters.**

Mike took a second to try to fall back into his headspace. If the others weren't willing to talk to him then he was going to go looking for them. He laid down and closed his eyes.


End file.
